Roy Poppins
by hanjuuluver
Summary: Roy takes care of a sick Ed. Usually this would be adorable, right? But what about if Roy had taken on the personality of Marry Poppins? Lots of silly, that's what. Mild Ed/Roy. Rated for language. R&R, spitspot!


This idea came to me through an amazing leap of Kristen logic. First, one must keep in mind that I am always thinking something about FMA. Next, one must be informed of the fact that my mother was trying to give me orange-flavored alkaseltzer plus, which truly does taste like a moldy shoe. Horrid stuff. Naturally, I thought what if Ed was sick and Roy went to take care of him? Simultaneously, I thought of the Mary Poppins song, "A Spoon Full of Sugar." This is where it got me. Gotta love my messed up brain! XD

Roy Poppins 

Alphonse walked into his brother's room to check on him, as Ed had recently contracted a cold. He was greeted by the bizarre sight of his brother wearing blue flannel pajamas, twitching pathetically, with an empty bowl beside him.

"Brother? What happened?" he asked worriedly.

His only response was a particularly violent twitch as Ed had a flashback.

-Insert fancy flashback effect here-

"Take the medicine, Ed," Roy coaxed, holding up a glass of orange-flavored alkaseltzer plus.

"NO! it tastes like a moldy shoe!" Ed protested violently.

Roy than started doing a song and dance number as he tried to get the short blond to take the medicine. It went a little like this. Ahem.

"Oh a spoon full of sugar,"

–_**leaps in the air and spins- **_

"helps the medicine go do-own,"

–_**dramatic lunge then stands up- **_

"the medicine go do-own,"

–_**squats- **_

"medicine go do-own"

–_**hops back up and lunges again- **_

"Yes, a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go do-own, in the most delightful way!"

Roy ended by presenting the glass to Ed, not a drop spilled.

"What the fuck, Roy…"

"Language, young man!" Roy looked shocked.

"WHO YOU CALLIN SO SHORT—"  
"Drink up now, spit-spot!" Ed was speechless.

_Roy has been possessed by a Mary Sue! There's no way I can save him now!, _he thought dramatically as he took the medicine, a dumb look on his face. He instantly gagged on the foul liquid people dared to call medicine. This wasn't medicine, this was orange colored poison with a medicine-type label on it.

"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Roy asked.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Ed asked, trying his best not to puke Both the medicine and the fact that his superior was acting like - well, he wasn't quite sure how to put it as he had already used the term 'Mary Sue,' and he couldn't very well go around repeating himself, could he? – were making him queasy. Then he wondered why he had just had a thought involving the words 'suppose' and 'quite,' and how he even _knew_ the term Mary Sue. _I hope Roy's weirdness isn't contagious, _he thought desperately.

"Well, now, let's get you some supper! I'll whip up some soup for you while you wash up for bed."

"But it's 5 o'clock!" Ed exclaimed in indignation.

"Sick children must get lots of sleep. Now go on, spit-spot!" Roy said before whistling. A giant carpeted bag flew through the window that magically opened on its own. He immediately opened up the aforementioned bag and pulled out a frilly pink apron that read, 'Roy Poppins, practically perfect in every way,' and pulled it on, tying it in a bow in the back. "Go on! Whatever are you waiting for? Spit-spot!" Roy ordered while pulling out a giant soup pot and a portable grill from the bag.

Ed twitched and dashed down the hall to take a nice, long, cold shower. If he was lucky, this would all just be one twisted dream and when he woke up, he would start twitching every time someone said 'spit-spot,' which hopefully no one ever would. Sadly, he failed to escape the clutches of Roy-Poppins before he said,

"Now I expect to see you back and ready in half an hour's time. And don't forget to wash behind your ears! Spit-spot!" Ed twitched again. God, this was one torturous dream. Ed briefly wondered if this qualified as cruel and unusual punishment. He would have pondered longer had he not instantly decided that yes, it was, and that the twisted authoress who decided to write this deserved the death penalty (1).

------------I LIKE SNOW!!!-------------

Ed re-entered his room precisely thirty minutes later only to find Roy-Poppins conversing with an umbrella with a wooden parrot for a handle. The conversation had apparently been about a book entitled _Ethan Frome_. Ed didn't ask. He figured he _really_ didn't want to know.

Suddenly, Roy snapped his fingers. Instead of the usual flame emitting from the snap, a tray loaded with a bowl of chicken-noodle soup, crackers, and a cup of Earl Grey tea came flying at him. Ed caught it and looked at it dumbly for a while, and noticed that he had been doing that entirely too frequently in this fic. A voice filled his head and told him to live with it, then left as suddenly as it had manifested itself.

"That medicine musta been drugged…" Ed muttered under his breath.

"What was that, dear?" Roy asked politely from his floral patterned chair, which Ed could have _sworn_ wasn't there before…

"Nothing!" Ed shouted as convincingly as he could before muttering softly, "_eunuch_," and drinking his tea.

"UGH! This is bitter!" he shouted in distaste.

"Oh, a spoon full of sugar—"

"DON'T!" Ed screamed in fear, almost dropping his tray of food.

"Well, alright, I suppose. I do like that song ever so much…" Roy said, clearly disappointed that he/she couldn't get the chance to sing it again.

Ed walked slowly towards the bed. Maybe he should go to sleep. Or if this was some kind of mutant dream, make himself wake up by sleeping in his dream (2).

"Come, come! You must eat your supercalifragilisticexpialacious meal first! Spit-spot!"

"Who are you, and what did you do with my boyfriend!" Ed shouted in horror. This was simply too much.

"Well, that was rather rude! I am myself, as you can clearly see. Now hurry up and finish off your supper before it gets cold. I have an urgent meeting I simply must be getting to as soon as I've seen you well taken care of. Spit-spot!"

"ENOUGH WITH THE SPIT-SPOT ALREADY!! I'LL EAT THE GOD DAMNED SOUP!!!" Ed shouted as his last brain cell died off from the corrosive presence of a Mary Sue. He swallowed down the soup, choked down the incredibly British tea, and shoved all the crackers into his mouth in one fell swoop.

"Exquisite job! But watch your tongue, or you just might find it being washed out with soap! Now, just get changed into your nighties and I shall be on my way."

"What was that?"

"Your pajamas, darling. Now go on, spit—oops! Sorry, almost made a boo-boo!" Roy giggled. Ed twitched. Again. And then striped down into his boxers right there.

"OH MY! That is highly inappropriate!" Roy exclaimed, plainly appalled at Ed's behavior.

"What, this is what I wear to bed! And you've seen me in my boxers before."

"That doesn't make striping down right in front of me proper in the least! Besides, you are to wear those flannels I have set out for you on your bed."

_This cannot be happening…_ Ed thought dumbly (again) before changing into the blue flannel pajamas that were laid out in the bed. _There, I'm wearing the flannels, you can leave now. Please, dear GOD, leave! Before you kill me along with my brain cells!_

And then as if Roy-Poppins had read his mind,

"Alright, I must be off now," he announced before whistling. The carpet bag and umbrella (with which he had earlier been conversing), flew into his hands. He opened the umbrella and hopped out the window. Instead of falling to a most painful doom upon the icy concrete below, Roy-Poppins flew out across Central precisely on time for the military meeting planned that day. He wouldn't have missed it for the world. They were providing tea and crumpets!

The End

Or is it? … Yes, it is, cuz I can't come up with anything more for it. Oh well.

(1):Me: HEY! I like this idea!

Kate: I know. That's what scares me.

Me: you do realize that if I die, you die too, right?

Kate: that would be true if I wasn't immortal, but I am, so HA!

Me: If you're immortal, and you're me, doesn't that mean I'm immortal?

Kate:… shoot… just keep writing already.

Me: gotcha!

(2): Wow… that didn't make much sense… well, none of this does, so no harm done. Well, other than maybe to your brain… Mwahahahaha!!

A/N: do please review! I would appreciate it ever so much! DAMN ADDICTIVE BRITISH ACCENT! MUST BREAK AWAY FROM THE MIND CONTROL OF BERRANT!! GAHHH!! Oh, it would be so wonderful to be free for just a smidgen more time. I have been locked away for ever so long! But as mentioned previously, do leave a review! Much thanks, friend!

Kate: oh! and anyone who enjoyed this fic and would like to see one that is an FMA/some other Disney movie crossover, please let us know. Our wonderful and charming (and violent) editor, Jane Austin Girl, has suggested we do an FMA/Lion King crossover. She envisioned Roy with very weird hair singing the circle of life.


End file.
